life cuts across time
and while becoming calm,
cuts eternity's records
into two overlapping spirals and dies
i'll recite
this song
and carve a moment's memory
into people's hearts
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Fireworks. That is what Namine so desperately wanted him to see with her, and that is what she so painstakingly and stealthily had been reminding him about for the entire day. The ENTIRE. DAY. Granted, he could never hate her, but she could work her way under his skin and hit that last working nerve of his that was only connected just so by a thin, wiry thread. That was a quality about her that he loathed. But oh well. Not like Vanitas could do much about it, considering that it was he who had taken her in anyway. And yet... he liked her, in a family-sort-of-way only, but still. She wasn't a bad girl to be around and she at least cared about him and noticed him... which was nice.
Vanitas gave a deep, snort of a sigh and pulled his knees up to his chest. He was sitting outside beside the girl's dorm room waiting for Namine to show, and it was extremely boring. Listing things of that he'd rather be doing had been entertaining for a little while, whistling random tunes could only suffice for so long, and he just really wanted to find a plaything. Someone to bother, someone to annoy. Someone to make his whole day just a little worthwhile. He strummed his fingers on his knee excitedly and went through a little list in his head... surely, surely, surely he could find someone. Like the little Rue girl. ... What was her name? He couldn't recall and probably wouldn't be able to: remembering required encoding, encoding required caring. Oh, she was a little doll: like china, beautiful and fragile and so very easy to drop on its head and watch it break. But of course, it wasn't like Vanitas could actually do anything about her - by the time he'd actually gotten off his lazy a** to go find her, Namine walked outside.
"I'm so sorry!" his sister said in lieu of a hello, holding her sketch pad close to her chest and shaking her head. "I - I lost it, and I was looking everywhere for it and I thought I'd left it here, or there, or there and I really did keep you waiting, didn't I, and I know how you hate waiting and -" she finally stopped to draw in a breath (that whole last sentence was spoken without a single one taken - Vanitas was impressed yet again) and closed her eyes, sliding the sketch pad up over her rapidly darkening cheeks.
"If you promise never to ramble like that, apology accepted. I hate when you ramble," he grumbled as he folded his arms. He was lying, really. He actually thought it was funny, how embarassed she got when she "failed" to make him happy. In truth, she didn't fail. He was... well, while using the term didn't exactly feel right to him, he was going to use it anyway: he felt... happy... just with her around. She understood him. He understood her.
Even they barely shared a thing in common.
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